"Running away?" said Pat Stoodles. "Shure, if I was in command I'd sthand and give her one or two good welts."
"Captain Broadbeam knows his business, Mr. Stoodles," declared Dave; "you can always count on that."
Far out in the bay were a group of sandbars and several small wooded islands. The Swallow was headed for the largest of these islets. The gunboat swung a challenge signal to which the Swallow made no reply.
Then, just as the steamer, pursuant to her captain's orders, began to slow up, the ironclad fired a gun.
"Give them their walking papers, Mr. Drake," rang out Broadbeam to the boatswain.
The latter ran up a signal flag. This signified that the Swallow announced herself two-and-one-half miles from shore, and therefore out of the jurisdiction of Minotaur Island, claiming the freedom of neutral waters.
"That'll hold her for a while," gloated Stoodles. "Aha! ye'll have to take back wather now."
The gunboat reminded Dave of some spiteful being cheated out of its prey. She circled, spit steam, and went more slowly back to port.
Captain Broadbeam now ordered the Swallow just without the shoal line of a big sandy island they had neared. Here they came to anchor.
Bob Vilett came up on deck reeking with the steam and grease of the engine room.